Just Like You
by AssassinOfRome
Summary: Sherlock messes with the Science Fairy and swaps bodies with John. Now they have a week to change back and with a dawning attraction growing, can they make it in time? My attempt at slash. For xcrazygirlx318. Multi chapter. Rated T for language AOR
1. Chapter 1

"What you doing?" John asked Sherlock early one Saturday morning. The sun was twinkling through the curtains and everything was a peace in the world. Except Sherlock. His expression ranged from mingling distaste to utter hatred as he heard John's question.

"A very very delicate experiment." He sighed.

"Which is?"

Sherlock hit the table with the hand that wasn't holding the shaking eyedropper.

"Vital to the case."

"What case? You have no cases." John asked, staring at his flatmate. He was hovering by his shoulder now, peering in the petri-dish that lay in front of the detective. Something green was squirming around in it. Sherlock looked fascinated, though faintly disgusted at its movements.

"Yes I do. That one about the shipwrecked doodle book?"

"Oh yeah…" John remembered a distraught girl clinging to the railings of the Thames, begging for Sherlock's help. "How does that relate to this?" He stared at the glistening blob of matter which was now beginning to roll around sluggishly. Sherlock stared at it, confused.

"That's not right…"

"What's not right?"

Sherlock pointed to the blob which was slowly growing. "That's not right at all…" The blob was getting bigger and bigger. It wiggled and squiggled. John decided it was a wise idea to pull Sherlock away before he poked it curiously and it exploded.

"Hey!" He cried as John tugged on his dressing gown. The blob rolled off the table and grew into an egg shape.

"What the…?" John exclaimed as the giant green egg cracked in two. A beautiful woman emerged, clad in purple velvet. Her blonde hair was twisted up into an elegant knot. Her expression was severe.

"Sherlock! I told you not to meddle in things that are not of your concern." Sherlock flinched at the anger in her voice.

"I know. But it was for a case…" The woman growled and Sherlock tailed off. John had never seen Sherlock this frightened. He was visually shaking.

"That's always your excuse, young man! I biopsied a unicorn because it had something to do with a murder! I stopped time whilst experimenting on a piece of a thief's clothing! I made a bear talk as an alibi for an affair! Well I'm sick of it! This time you will be punished!" She glared at Sherlock and fumbled in her pocket.

"Excuse me, but who are you?" John asked the lady.

"Does he not know?" She asked Sherlock incredulously.

"He does not know." He stared at her

"He knows not?"

"Knows not does he." Sherlock sighed.

"Not he knows?"

"Enough!" John interrupted. "Now who are you?"

The woman looked surprised. "I am the science fairy! It does not pay to anger the science fairy!" She pulled a wand out of her pocket and pointed it at Sherlock.

"If you're going to punish him, you've got to get through me first!" John stepped in front of his lanky best friend. The science fairy shrugged.

"Ok then." A purple jet of light burst from her wand tip. It engulfed Sherlock and John in a blinding mist of shimmering glitter.

"You have one week. True love's first kiss!" She cackled and sprouting wings, flying away through the mist. All that could be heard was Sherlock and John's hacking coughs. The smoke began to clear and they emerged, completely unharmed or disfigured in anyway.

"Well that's wasn't so bad." John mumbled. Except he wasn't saying it. He could see himself from a slight height and his mouth wasn't moving. Wait… he could see himself? He glanced down at his hands, which were usually callused and tanned. Now they were white and long fingered. He saw himself doing something similar.

"Sherlock… I'm you!" He cried. Sherlock stared at him with wide eyes. John's eyes. Warm and brown, not beautiful silver.

"And I you." Sherlock replied gravely. There was silence in the flat. Then…

"Am I really that skinny?"

John laughed. "Yes. You are. Am I really that short?"

"Yes you are." Sherlock sniggered. There was more silence.

"Well now what?"

"We must find a way to change back."

"Sorry to sound blunt but… well duh!" Sherlock raised one of John's eyebrows. "But how?"

"You're meant to be the genius!"

"But you're me!" John argued.

"And I you. We've been over this. Now think, think!"

"You think think!"

"I can't! My brain's too small!"

"Thanks! I'm standing right here you know!" John was offended. Sherlock sniffed and flopped back on the sofa.

"OW!" He cried.

"What? What is it?" John rushed to his side.

"My shoulder. Your shoulder. Sorry…" Sherlock hissed. He grabbed the Union Flag cushion and pushed it behind John's bad shoulder then settled down to think.


	2. Chapter 2

Several hours passed. Sherlock went from sitting on the sofa, to pacing, to inspecting the flat and eventually ended up on the sofa again. All these actions looked funny on John's stocky little body but none of them ever looked out of place on the lanky detective. He sighed and pushed the pillow into his face.

"Well?" The true John said, hand on Sherlock's bony hips. "Got anything?"

"Not a dickey bird." Sherlock shook his head, surprised when he didn't feel curls on his cheeks. "Wait... did I just say that?"

"Yes you did, you incompetant fool!" Surprise was written all across Sherlock's features. "I didn't mean that." He said quietly.

"Our speech patterns are being affected now. For the time being, we still have our natural voices but I suppose they will also eventually fade into each other's.

John smiled. "Well you still sound like you should, Sherlock. Tea?"

"Yes, please."

John walked over to the kettle realising he could move much faster in Sherlock's body than his own. He almost tripped up, not used to having size 10 feet. He suddenly gave a sharp gasp.

"John? Are you alright?" Sherlock asked, a look of worry on John's features. Turning around slowly, Sherlock could see that his already albaster skin had gone even paler.

"John? What's wrong?"

"I... I..." John gasped. "I was hit by... so many thoughts... all at once... like they were fighting for a place in my brain."

Sherlock giggled. "That's normal for me."

"Does that mean you can't deduce anymore?"

Sherlock went wide-eyed and worried. He glanced around the room frantically then scampered down the stairs and out into the street. People were walking up and down the street. Street lamps glowed. Cabs glided noiselessly down the street. Everything was normal. Sherlock ran up to a woman and gripped her by the arms, studying her. She shreeked and hit him with her handbag, screaming 'Pedophile!'. Sherlock backed away quickly and walked back to John, who was waiting on the doorstep.

"Well? Can you?"

Sherlock walked slowly up the stairs, not answering.

"Sherlock? Sherlock!"

Sherlock lay down on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. He looked like he might burst into tears.

"Sherlock?"

"I can't."

"Can't what, love?" John realised a second too late what he had said and bit his lip, blushing. Sherlock hadn't seemed to hear him.

"I can't deduce."

John put a comforting hand on Sherlock's arm. Or his own arm. It was all very confusing.

"Ah well. It's not the end of the world."

At these words, Sherlock's eyes went wide and he sat up.

"WHAT?"

"It's not the end of the world, Sherlock." John was confused.

"Yes It Is!" Sherlock argued. "I can't deduce!"

"So?"

"That means I can't help the Yard! That means I can't outsmart my brother! That means..." Sherlock's voice broke slightly. "I'm not me anymore. I'm boring. Mundane. I'm a boring boring person with a funny little brain and an urge to breathe!"

"Oh Sherlock..." John wasn't sure what he was meant to do.

"Leave Me Alone!" Sherlock turned on the sofa so he wasn't facing John.

"But..."

"LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"God, you're such a drama queen..." John grumbled as he walked to his room and lay down on his bed.

* * *

><p>The Science Fairy looked down on Sherlock and John with a frown on her face. Her plan wasn't working at all. They were meant to be falling head over heels with each other, not rowing! She sighed.<p>

"Silly little humans." She muttered, reaching for her wand. Twiddling it between her fingers, she wondered if using magic would help them find their feelings. She shrugged. A little bit of Thought Manipulation couldn't hurt. She pointed her wand at John and a wave of purple stars fell over him. After she was satisfied her spell was working, The Science Fairy turned her wand to Sherlock. She gave a soft, motherly smile.

"Even the smart ones are idiots." She zapped Sherlock with a green glitter ray.

* * *

><p>After staring at the ceiling for about ten minutes, John noticed a dull ache in his lower back. Great. Now he couldn't even sleep on his own bed because it hurt his boyfriend's back. Wait. Did he just think Sherlock was his boyfriend? No... that's not right. It couldn't be right. John squirmed, trying to forget what just happen and moved into a more comfortable position, falling asleep almost instantly and dreaming the strangest dreams. He was drowning in a sea of silver which was exactly the same colour as Sherlock's magnificent eyes.<p>

* * *

><p>Sherlock, from his position on the couch, was struggling with having a normal brain. Maybe he had been a little harsh with John. Maybe he should apologise. Maybe he should make some tea. Maybe he should talk to Yorick. Maybe Yorick wouldn't answer. All these thoughts zipping around his head gave Sherlock a migrane. He stood up and hunted around silently for some paracetamol. He didn't want to wake John. Suddenly there was a flutter in Sherlock's stomach. It was pleasantly warm and it tickled. He lay a hand against his stomach and stared at it curiously. What the hell was that? Maybe switching bodies with John had messed up his system? There it was again. The flutter. Sherlock lay back down on the sofa, still staring at his stomach. John's stomach was soft and stuck out just a tiny bit. He had left himself go slightly since Afghanistan but Sherlock didn't mind. Little white scar lines ran across it, obviously from army days. One lead right up to John's navel and he ran his finger along it. John's navel was an outtie. Sherlock poked it curiously. It tickled, but not as much as the warm flutter he had got before. He closed his eyes. Maybe he was hungry. It was true that he hadn't eaten in days. Sherlock fell asleep, hand still on his stomach.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

John woke up first. Maybe it was because the bed was uncomfortable. Maybe it was because of his strange dreams. Maybe it was because some other force with a magic wand compelled him to. Whatever it was, John woke up first. He stretched and heard Sherlock's back crick. He ruffled Sherlock's inky black curls and realised just how soft and silky they were. Quietly, he trudged downstairs. The real Sherlock was still asleep on the sofa. John stopped and stared. At some point during the night, Sherlock had picked up the Union Flag pillow and was now cuddling it to his chest like a teddy bear. It made John smile. Sherlock was so cute when he was asleep. John realised what he had thought. It confused him. But the way he felt after thinking it was one of the most pleasurable sensation he had ever felt.

"John." Sherlock murmured. John's heart pratically melted. Sherlock opened his eyes.

"John?"

"Yes Sherlock?"

"I'm hungry." There was a childlike tone in Sherlock's voice. John opened the fridge, mainly to hide his blushes.

"Put the iPod on Shuffle, will you?" He shouted to Sherlock. The detective obeyed. John flicked on the kettle. For once they had milk. He took a bottle out, with some sugar, which was in the breadbin.

"Can you count me in?" Sherlock asked. John was confused and walked into the living room. He didn't recognise the song. Obviously Sherlock did.

"I've been awake for a while now  
>You've got me feelin' like a child now<br>'Cause every time I see your bubbly face  
>I get the tingles in a silly place<p>

And it starts in my toes  
>And I crinkle my nose<br>Wherever it goes  
>I always know<br>That you make me smile  
>Please stay for a while now<br>Just take your time  
>Wherever you go."<p>

John tried hard not to blush. The rain, that John had only just noticed, beat heavily against the roof but it was somehow in time with the music.

"The rain is falling on my window pane  
>But we are hiding in a safer place<br>Under covers staying safe and warm  
>You give me feelings that I adore<p>

But what am I gonna say  
>When you make me feel this way<br>I just mmmmm

And they start in my toes  
>Makes me crinkle my nose<br>Wherever it goes  
>I always know<br>That you make me smile  
>Please stay for a while now<br>Just take your time  
>Wherever you go."<p>

Sherlock suddenly noticed John was watching him. He smiled sheepishly and John sat next to his feet which were propped up on the sofa arm. They looked into each other's eyes. One pair were warm, chocolate brown like that of a tame horse or a hobbit. The other were liquid silver, light channeling through them, making the iris sometimes gray, sometimes green and sometimes blue. But in the darkend room they were sat in (Sherlock had shut the curtains before falling asleep) they were the brightest silver, like a new ten pence. They even seemed to glow in the half light. Sherlock continued to sing, albeit nervously. John could see his own fillings.

"I've been asleep for a while now  
>You tuck me in just like a child now<br>'Cause every time you hold me in your arms  
>I'm comfortable enough to feel your warmth<p>

And it starts in my soul  
>And I lose all control<br>When you kiss my nose  
>The feeling shows<br>'cause you make me smile baby  
>Just take your time now<br>Holdin' me tight

Wherever wherever wherever you go  
>Wherever wherever wherever you go<p>

Wherever you go  
>I always know<br>'Cause you make me smile  
>Even just for a while."<p>

During the course of the music, the pair had drifted closer, eyes still locked onto the others. John's gaze dropped to his lips. Sherlock instantly began to nibble them like a rabbit. He even drew a drop of blood. John wanted to lick it away but stopped himself.

"Sherlock..." He whispered. They were only inches apart.

"Yes John?" Sherlock was trembling again. John lay his hand atop of Sherlock, surprising them both.

"I think I..." John was just about to reveal everything to Sherlock. How he found him interesting, insane, funny, stupid, kind, selfish and so godamned attractive! But the door opened and Mrs Hudson came bustling in, opening the curtain and waffling about mess. Sherlock and John jumped apart as if they had been struck by lightning.

The Science Fairy walked in from her kitchen (Yes she has a kitchen. She may be all powerful and have control over every aspect of science ever and maybe, just maybe responsible for the apple falling on to a certain Isaac Newton but she still needs a place to cook and store her groceries.) with a cup of steaming coffee in her hands. She looked at the scene in Baker Street and groaned loudly. In Poland, a thunderstorm began to rage. The purple clad woman picked up her wand.

"Why, oh why, when I leave you two for five minutes does everything go out of control?" She mumbled bitterly, waving her wand over the scene once more. But Sherlock and John had already seperated and the moment was ruined. 


End file.
